From the Depths
by MistPhoenix
Summary: In a city run by the darkness, Delilah has somehow managed to survive these past few months despite her innocence. Her past has turned her into the quiet timid girl who blends into the background, but how long can she stay off of the darkness' radar? When it discovers her, will the darkness drawn her in like a tractor beam or will it send her running? JOKER/OC, pre-Suicide Squad
1. One

**A/N: This is a story I wrote after watching Suicide Squad. This takes place pre-Suicide Squad though. I do not own any characters, but my few OCs. I do WARN you that this story may contain some triggers and mature content. Typical stuff you would expect from the Joker. I know there are A LOT of different versions of the Joker out there between the comics and movies, but this is the Leto Joker. I know some Joker fics have a lot of abuse in them, but that's just not my cup of tea so I try to avoid it when possible without changing too much of his character. So please keep that in mind when reading. As Always, I am completely open to constructive criticism. However, if you leave a mean or unhelpful comment, it will be deleted. :) This entire story is written. I'm just tweaking as I go so I should be posting chapters left and right. :) I have not forgotten my other stories. I will be finishing those up. I just needed a break to clear my head on the Walking Dead one as well as Vampire Diaries. Between having a two year old and working from home, it gets a bit hard to write. haha.**

 **For visuals on Delilah, other OCs, outfits and whatnot, check my profile for the link to the From the Depths collection. :)**

 **Thanks so much and enjoy!**

* * *

"So what kind of club is it? A comedy club?" Delilah Swann shivered against the cold air of the night as she hurried down the street with her date towards their destination for the evening. Her long chocolate hair was pulled half up, but even the locks falling on her bared shoulders didn't protect her from the harsh wind. "I mean, am I overdressed for a comedy club?"

Her date, Tucker looked her over without slowing down. She wore a white spaghetti strap Angel Eye dress that flowed loosely around her tanned legs as her white pumps clicked on the sidewalk, struggling to keep up with him. "You're fine."

That wasn't exactly reassuring. Nonetheless, she just hoped this date went well tonight. It had been a while since she had even thought to get herself back out into the dating scene and on top of that, this was a new city to her. Well, she'd lived here for a few months, but she didn't exactly get out much. Tucker wasn't exactly her type, but he had been quite persistent and charming during his daily stops to Watkin's Bar. She had been the overly shy bartender, but it wasn't long before he had her agreeing to a night out on the town. He was tall, blonde, traditionally handsome with a jawline that seemed to have no end. His dark blue polo accentuated his eyes and showed off his muscular arms. While he seemed to be straight out of the frat house, Delilah looked as if she would rather be curled up in the most secluded corner of a library. Quiet, shy, uncomfortable in her own skin... She never had her mother there to help her with things such as makeup or clothes, resulting in her confidence taking quite the hit in her high school years. That lack of confidence never really went away. Her eyes, however, were quite striking — they held the depths of the ocean, shining brightly out at the world passing her by.

"It's right up here." Tucker gestured towards a rather extravagant looking building that had a line out the door. Green lights shone brightly to accentuate the strong architectural features above, putting the focus on the sign. "Grin and Bare It?" she asked. "Clever name."

A tall burly bouncer stood at the door, list in hand. "I still can't believe we got on the list for this place," Tucker said to her before approaching the bouncer with confidence. "Tucker Hamilton and guest."

After checking the list, the bouncer stepped aside with a silent nod, letting them pass, but upon stepping over the threshold, Delilah's excitement turned to unease. Her ocean blue eyes widened at the sight before her. "This is definitely not a comedy club."

Stages were set around the room, half naked women dancing upon them with chains and poles to give the club's attendees a show. "I never said it was."

Delilah shook her head. "I'm not entirely comfortable—"

"Hey!" Tucker called to a group of guys waving him over. Ignoring Delilah's protests, he pulled her along with him towards his friends. They all looked to be his buddies from work or something. She didn't bother to ask and just sat next to him quietly while they all enjoyed the topless woman dancing on the stage in front of them, their eyes glued to her as she hung from the chain, using her gifts to rack up the tips. Waitresses brought them drink after drink and Delilah was playing her own little game in her head, waiting for one of them to pass out from too much alcohol. However, this must've been a regular thing for them because none of them really even seemed fazed. Her on the other hand, she was a complete lightweight. Very rarely did she drink and it was usually alone in her tiny one bedroom apartment when she could actually afford a bottle of cheap wine on her birthday.

"What about your date, man? She looks thirsty," his friend with the leather coat hollered over the music. "Doesn't seem to be having such a great time."

"Yeah, maybe get her a drink to loosen her up a bit," another offered as he slicked his hair back from his face. To her, he added, "You definitely stand out in here, sweetheart. You look like the sweet and innocent girl next door."

Tucker laughed and rose to presumably fetch her a drink as suggested. This was not the guy she thought she was going out with tonight. Back when he had asked her out, he had seemed so calm and reserved. It was obvious now that it was all for show… Something she was all too familiar with. What she wouldn't give for a guy who wasn't afraid to just be himself. To say, this is me. Deal with it. You like it or you don't.

Even in her thoughts she had this nagging feeling that was making her uneasy. It was the feeling of unseen eyes watching your every move. However, everywhere she looked there wasn't a soul paying her any attention. Even her date, who returned and handed her a glass of some form of brown alcohol before returning his attention to his friend's and the girl in front of them. It must just be in her head. Who in their right mind would pay attention to a girl like her in a place like this?

Not even twenty minutes later, she found herself dizzy as hell, the contents of her glass now circulating through her veins. Cursing herself for being such a lightweight, she let Tucker guide her from the club. But wait… this wasn't the way they came in. It was dark and quiet except for the muffled bass of the music inside. Tucker pushed her back against something cold, sending shivers over her skin. She tried to focus, but everything was spinning. Blinking her eyes, she tried her best to figure out where she was. Brick… He had her pressed up against the brick wall of the alleyway behind the club. Feeling his hands pushing themselves up under her skirt, she let out a groan which he mistook for a moan of pleasure. Not that he would've minded otherwise. It wouldn't have stopped him. She wanted to fight him off of her. She really did, but her arms felt like they were being weighed down by some invisible force. _What the hell is going on?_ Just as he hooked his finger into the top of her panties, he was pulled off of her. The sudden loss of support had her sliding down the wall to the ground, her legs folding underneath her. With her vision fading, the last thing she saw was a flash of green.


	2. Two

Head throbbing, Delilah winced as she pushed to sit up, not daring to open her eyes to face the light that would undoubtedly not be her friend. Her brow furrowed at the feeling of the smooth leather that was beneath her. Forcing her eyes open, she found herself in a very unfamiliar room. It was very extravagant, very gold and white. She was sitting on a rather large white leather couch with a window to her right. Looking through the glass she saw that the room below looked awfully like the club she had been at with her date. In fact, it was the same place, just no music, no men hollering at the dancers who would giggle in response to the attention and tips. There were no lights shining around the room. Now it was just a dark room full of tables, stages, and a bar. Groaning, she rubbed her neck. Dropping her feet to the floor to try to stand, she jumped when she saw she wasn't alone. A man in a fine pressed suit sat across from her, silent with his leg propped onto the other as he watched her.

"Who are you?"

While he looked like he wasn't one to play games, his deep brown eyes told her not to worry. "I'm Frost." He leaned forward onto his knees. "You're still at the club. Just in the boss' private lounge."

Delilah tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and realized her hair had completely come out of it's band. Slightly embarrassed by her situation, she asked, "What, um— What happened?"

"You were drugged." His face gave to evidence of emotion as he stated the fact.

Well, that explains her pounding headache and not being able to remember how she got there. "But who—"

"Your date had less than honorable intentions. We caught him trying to take advantage of the situation out back."

Delilah wished she could say she was surprised, but remembering how different the guy was from what she had expected put an end to that. Then there was the nagging question… "Did he—"

"No," Frost answered bluntly and she was grateful she didn't have to complete her sentence. "We got to you just in time. You're lucky." Her eyes were full of gratitude as he went on. "The boss saw him from up here. On his way back from the bar with your drink, he dropped something in."

"So, um— what happened to him? Did he just ditch me or what?" She wrapped her arms around herself, not only to warm herself but also for a small sense of security.

"He won't be bothering you anymore," he replied and something in his tone told her she didn't want to know any more than that.

"Well, thank you. I don't really know what else to say. I'm really grateful you were there."

"Just a bad date. I'm sure you're next one will be better."

Delilah let out a chuckle, scoffing at his words. "Do you know how hard it is for me to get a date?"

"I would guess not hard at all," he gave her his first smile, making her blush.

"Well, it is very hard. I just moved here a few months ago and I know absolutely no one," she dropped her gaze down to her hands as she picked at the hem of her skirt. "I met him at work. I'm a bartender at a small pub downtown called Watkin's and he was one of our regulars." She looked up and noticed he kept glancing at his phone, shooting a text off here and there, which she thought was sort of rude, but hell… he had just had a hand in saving her so who was she to complain.

As a new text flashed on his screen, he said, "Well, how'd ya like a job here?"

"Here?!" she asked a little too shocked.

"I can guarantee we would pay a lot more than any bar around town."

Taken off guard by the job offer, she starts to shake her head, prepared to politely decline, but he cut her off.

"Boss said to let you know that you'll be well taken care of. You just have to come in, serve drinks to our customers, and leave."

She chewed on her lip, thinking it over. She definitely could use the extra cash. Right now she was in a tiny apartment that was in desperate need for repairs and struggling to make ends meet. "Okay, I'll do it. When do you want me to start? Like next week or—"

"Tomorrow," he grinned.

Her eyes widened but she nodded. "Alright, well I should probably go home and rest." Moving towards the door, she looked back over her shoulder and added, "And please… tell your boss thank you for me."

* * *

"What on earth are you wearing, girl?!" Donovan, the Grin and Bare It's current bartender, chuckled as he took in the sight of his new co-worker. His Irish accent seemed to make his words just flow smoothly from his mouth.

"I didn't know what to wear. I didn't exactly have a closet full of clothes that I felt were strip club worthy," she made an excuse for her attire. She wore a light blue floral crop top and some white skinny jeans that led down to her pair of white pumps.

"It's just so… pulled back," he stated, trying to find the least offensive way to describe it. "You need to get yourself some 'badass chick' outfits."

"Noted," she said, coming around the bar.

"I do like the accessories though." He gestured to her layered gold necklaces and gold banded bracelet.

"Well, thanks," she laughed, just wanting to get her first day over with.

Running his hand through his light brown hair, he pushed it back to sweep away from his face. His sides were shaven but the top of his head was long enough that if he didn't keep it swept back, it would hang down in his eyes. As he looked for where he should get her started, he rubbed at his scruffy beard. "Hmm, let's see… Ah, here we are. Can you make us each a drink from this book so I can see where we're at as far as your bartending skill?"

"Any one in particular?" she asked, taking the book from him and flipping through the pages.

"Let's try a Classic Martini and our house specialty Split Sides."

Finding Split Sides in the recipe book, she got to work and had them done quicker than he had expected. "There ya are."

He nodded, clearly impressed. "Nice work. They'll be pleased upstairs."

Delilah's eyes shot up to the window of the lounge she had been in the night before. She couldn't see inside, but she felt as if she was being watched. This was something she started to notice was a normal feeling there in the club. Maybe it was just from being a female in a strip club. Who knew… Nevertheless, she wrote it off and focused on making drinks.

* * *

Her first couple weeks flew by with minimal mistakes. It was definitely a lot more business than she was used to and the tips definitely didn't have her complaining. As she thumbed through her tip money to sort it out, Donovan let out a whistle. "Man, I'm jealous. Definitely pays off being an attractive female in this place."

"I don't know about that," she laughed with him. "I just hope I'm impressing 'The Boss', who I have yet to meet. He's even bought me clothes for work. Still have yet to meet him. Or her," she caught herself. When she had shown up for her second day of work, Frost was waiting with bags of clothes saying that the Boss had gotten her some for work. Apparently she looked too 'innocent' for the club. One thing was for certain, she did not feel comfortable in the clothes the Boss had picked out for her. Donovan had told her that the Boss had kept it pretty conservative for her, which I guess surprised him, but to her they were still very revealing. Nothing in her closet had a plunging neckline... until now.

Donovan's demeanor changed, becoming less energetic as he said, "He."

"Excuse me?" she asked, confused.

"The Boss is a he."

"Got it," she said, following him outside to his car. Donovan had been nice enough to offer her rides back to her apartment her first few nights working and it just became a regular thing for them, which she greatly appreciated. 'The streets aren't a safe place for a lady at night,' he would say.

"Just take it from me," he opened her door for her, waiting for her to climb in. "Don't rush to meet him. He's… intense."

"Whatever you say," she shook her head. Donovan was becoming the closest thing to a friend she had since she had moved to Gotham. There was even a night this week when he had hung out at her place after work for awhile. She didn't have a tv, so instead they just swapped crazy bar stories, which was what they ended up doing tonight.

"No way!" she felt like she was about to burst from the laughter.

"Yes! The entire glass! That shirt smelt like alcohol and vomit even after washing it three times." Leaning forward onto Delilah's dining table, he smiled back at her brightly as she reacted to his crazy vodka story.

Delilah cradled her head in her hands as she laughed at the picture in her mind. Looking back up at him, their laughter calmed as she said, "So what's the deal with our Boss? You said he was 'intense'. What does that even mean?"

Donovan sat back in his seat, shoulders slumped. "I don't know what to tell you, Delilah. I can't really talk about him. When he wants you to meet him, you'll meet him. Trust me."

"What is he like this Batman guy I keep hearing about or something?" she joked.

"No," Donovan answered flatly, shaking his head.

"Alright, fine. I won't push. I'm just curious."

"Yeah, well you better watch that. 'Curiosity killed the cat' is something he firmly believes in." Donovan threw back the rest of his beer. "Welp. I'm calling it a night. See you tomorrow, D."

"Night," she called as he closed her door behind him, leaving her there with her thoughts.

* * *

It was another one of those nights. Way too many men being served way too many drinks. This usually led to a lot of them not knowing when to quit when it came to hassling Delilah. More than a few times Donovan has had to step in to get them to back off. One of the drawbacks of being a female bartender that was only exasperated by it being in a strip club. It was something she was getting used to and the incidents were easily forgotten. But unbeknownst to her, it wasn't something that was unnoticed by those upstairs. Watchful eyes were always on the bar, taking in everything that had been going on since this girl had started. Every shy smile to a customer, every laugh with Donovan, every incident of harassment from a overly drunk patron… Everything.

These same icy eyes watched as Frost approached her as she and Donovan closed down the bar. Frost was informing her that he would be her ride home from now on, which by the looks of it wasn't settling well with her. But with one more word from Frost, Donovan was backing down, telling her it was alright. He'd see her tomorrow. Looking defeated, she gave in and followed Frost out the back to the awaiting car. She gave in so easily. A wicked grin spread on the Boss' lips. She was going to be a fun one to play with…

 **Please, please review! They are much welcome! :)**


	3. Three

**Three**

—

Delilah sighed as she reached the entrance of Grin and Bare It. _How in the hell had she ever ended up working at a place like this_ , she wondered to herself. It was more than a nice paycheck — she had her first friend since moving here. But now her time with him was significantly less since Frost had started being her ride home. No more rides with Donovan. No more hanging out after work. It was almost as if Donovan was afraid to come over now. She had tried inviting him over saying that just because he wasn't her ride home didn't mean he was banned from her place. It didn't seem to convince him. There was always an excuse, but she knew he was just avoiding hanging out.

"Hey, Donovan." She tossed her bag into the back room where the employees kept their stuff.

"Ready for a busy night?" He smiled over at her from where he stood drying off the final glasses as he prepped for the upcoming shift.

"I don't think I'm ever ready for the busy nights. My favorite part of them is _always_ last call."

"You and me both." Donovan sat the glass onto the counter and flipped the towel over his shoulder. He noticed her shy smile and tilted his head. "You look nice tonight."

"Thanks," she blushed. She was wearing one of the dresses the Boss had sent for her. She had dared to wear one with a plunging neckline. Normally she wouldn't have even given it a chance, but deep down she hoped it would gain some attention from Donovan. She was actually starting to really like the guy. He was sweet. Something she noticed about the clothes that had been provided for her was that the majority was white. She found this strange because almost every other worker wore black. Well… all except for the ones who barely wore any clothes at all. As she smoothed out her skirt that was dangerously short, she caught sight of the clock on the wall behind Donovan. "Let's do this."

The night moved by pretty quickly. So much so that they were already an hour away from closing. Her braid had almost made it through the night. Strands had fallen loose and hung down around her face, but the rest of it still hung over her shoulder. The bar was almost empty as the club's occupants tried to get their last fill of the strippers before they had to leave.

"Hey, D," Donovan called, lifting a crate full of dirty glasses into his arms. "I'm going to go start on washing these up. Holler if you need me, yeah?"

"No problem," she smiled. Wiping down the counter, she had the same weird feeling she often got since she started working here and froze, eyes darting up to the lounge window. How she wished she could see in there…

"I'll take an Old Fashioned, miss."

Delilah's eyes fell to the balding man before her as his voice shocked her out of her thoughts. "Oh, um, yeah. No problem. Coming right up." She placed a sugar cube in the small glass and dashed in some bitters and some water.

"You're a pro, ain't ya?" He flashed her a toothy grin.

"Just been working as a bartender for awhile. Fast paced place like this kind of makes it so you have to be quick."

"Fast. I like that." His tongue shot out over his lips.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes at his poor excuse for an innuendo. Finishing off his drink with the bourbon and giving it a quick swirl, she sat it down on a small black napkin in front of him. "There ya are. Enjoy."

"Oh, I am," he winked. "How about when you're off we head back to my place so I can enjoy myself even more? Hmm?"

Not wanting to deal with the asshole anymore, she turned to leave but he caught her wrist across the bar, stopping her from leaving.

She tried to pull her wrist free, but the man was just too strong. Her eyes searched the area for anyone she thought may step in. "Let me go."

Her words may as well have fallen on deaf ears. His other hand rubbed up her arm. His rough skin scratched as his hand ran up her forearm.

"So soft. Come on, sweetheart. Big Paulie knows how to make you feel good."

She jerked her hand back, but was still unable to get free. All she managed to do was make him tighten his grip on her wrist to the point that she knew she would have some bruises to show for it tomorrow. But relief soon came when a hand slapped down onto the man's shoulder.

Big Paulie turned in his seat to see Frost standing over him. "Get lost, pal. We're talking."

"No…you're not." Frost pulled the man from his seat and Delilah rubbed the skin of her wrist as she watched him lead 'Big Paulie' from the club. This guy was really starting to be her hero…

"What happened?" Donovan appeared at her side, noticing how she was cradling her wrist.

Letting her hand fall down to her side, she shook her head dismissively. "It was nothing. Just another drunken creep."

"You alright?" He rubbed her back comfortingly while he looked around for any sign of the creep.

"I'm fine. He just grabbed my wrist is all. Frost took him outside or something."

Donovan's face fell. "Well, then I don't think we'll be seeing him in here anytime soon."

"Good. I'd be happy if I never saw him again."

The two finished cleaning up for the night and she bid him farewell as she waited for Frost. She was sitting on one of the barstools when the bar phone rang, making her nearly jump out of her skin. In all the time she had been working here, she had only heard it ring twice and Donovan always insisted on answering it. But Donovan wasn't here… Eyeing it, she finally gave in and slowly brought the receiver to her ear. "Hello?"

"Boss wants to see you. Come up to the lounge," a voice that she thought was Frost's spoke to her before being followed by a click.

Returning the phone back to its place, she hopped down from the stool and started for the lounge. Her stomach was in knots. She had no idea what to expect. Was she in trouble for what had happened earlier? This wasn't exactly the way she had envisioned meeting the boss.

She took a deep, calming breath before she rapped her fingers on the lounge door. The door opened and she came face to face with Frost, whose expression was completely emotionless.

Her eyes instinctively found the floor as he moved to the side to let her step inside. Her nervousness didn't go unnoticed. Frost closed the door behind himself as he left her alone with the Boss. Her eyes slowly dared to rise, taking in the man sitting across the room. His hands crossed over the golden handle of his cane. Two guns hung in the shoulder holsters over his white shirt that was unbuttoned almost all the way to where his shirt was tucked into his black dress pants, revealing numerous tattoos that she couldn't quite make out from where she stood. A black tie hung undone around his neck. Her eyes finally found his face, sending shivers down her spine. It wasn't the bright green swept back hair or the extremely pale skin… no, it was the aura he gave off. The man exuded intense power and confidence. Neither of which was something that Delilah possessed. Like a moth to a flame, she felt herself wanting to be drawn in. She needed some of what he possessed. A heavy silence hung between them for what seemed like forever as he studied her.

"Delilah, is it?" he finally spoke, his voice low and gravelly.

"Ye-Yes, sir," she squeaked, making a humored grin spread on his lips.

He rose to his feet and crept toward her, tilting his head as he got a closer look at her. Extending his hand out toward her, he watched hers tremble as she reached out to shake his hand. "Nice to finally meet my newest bartender. I trust working here has been satisfactory so far." His eyes narrowed slightly, almost as if he already knew what her answer would be.

Giving a quick nod, she said, "It's been great. Thank you."

"Do you know who I am?"

Delilah shook her head, which he found both intrigued and disappointed him.

"Hmm," he hummed. "Well, Miss Delilah. You can call me Mr. J. Although… most people call me The Joker." Seeing her eyes widen in instant fear made him let out a roar of cackling laughter. "I take it you know who I am now. I was quite surprised you didn't recognize me. I have quite a distinguishable…" He waved his hand through the air theatrically. "Look."

"I don't own a tv. Things are tight. But," she paused, her eyes meeting his. "The thing about being the one who doesn't talk much is that I hear everything. People who would come into the bar I used to work at would talk. You came up quite a bit."

"Oh, how delightful," he gave another fear inducing laugh. His voice dropping low once more, he asked, "And what all have you heard?"

"Enough to know I should be afraid right now."

The Joker began to circle around her as a predator would its prey. "And are you… afraid?"

She trembled. "Yes."

He stopped in front of her and the smell of his cologne hit her nose. Someone as evil as he was shouldn't smell this good… It made them even more dangerous in her opinion. His cologne smelt complex — mingling fragrances of white musk, amber, cedar wood and who knew what else. "I take care of those who work for me."

As if on cue, the door burst open behind her and Frost reappeared — only this time he wasn't alone. The same creep that had grabbed her down at the bar earlier was at his side, gagged with his hands tied behind his back. Delilah watched in horror as Frost shoved the man to the floor on his knees in front of her.

"Spectacular timing, Frosty," Joker commended. Kneeling down to 'Big Paulie's' level, he growled, "You owe the lady an apology." Big Paulie said something unrecognizable against the gag. "Oh, silly me," Joker slapped both hands onto either side of Big Paulie's face, pulling the gag free.

"I'm— I'm sorry," Big Paulie spat up at her.

Joker's expression grew dangerously dark. "Now, now. Let's try that again. Only this time I want to believe you _mean_ it."

The tone of his voice had Delilah fearing the worst for the creep. She knew enough about The Joker to know most people who cross him don't last very long. Not long at all. "It's alright. Really. I'm used to it—"

Joker held his hand up, silencing her. "Quiet. This man needs to learn his lesson." He pulled one of his pistols free, holding the barrel against the man's head.

"I'm sorry," Big Paulie said softly.

"What?" Joker cupped a hand over his ear.

"I'm sorry, miss," Big Paulie practically cried up to her. _Bang_!

Delilah let out a scream and her hands flew up to her mouth as Big Paulie's lifeless body face planted on the floor. Tears sprang to her eyes as she stared in shock as brain matter and blood was splattered on the floor and up the wall.

"Frost."

"Yes, boss," Frost waited obediently for his order, wiping a smidgen of blood from his suit jacket.

"Take the little lamb home…" The Joker's eyes roamed over her, taking in the sight of her after what just transpired. Red blood splattered in a beautiful contrast on her stark white dress. _She had looked so good in that one. What a shame..._

Everything seemed to fade away for Delilah after that. Shock had taken over but now she realized she was sitting in the back of the black vehicle that took her home every night. _What have I gotten myself into_ , she thought. She clenched her eyes shut, trying to push the image of that dead man out of her head.

Frost eyed her in the rearview mirror. "You'll get used to it."

Tear-filled eyes met his in the mirror. "What if I never want to get used to it?"

"Then your life is going to be that much harder," he said, watching as she turned her gaze back out the window. "You work for The Joker now. And there's no backing out."


	4. Four

The next morning, Delilah had to practically drag her ass into work. It was a long sleepless night. Her dreams were plagued by Big Paulie's lifeless gaze, staring unseeingly up at her. She just wanted to go in, work, and go home. The last thing she wanted to do was have to see Mr. J again. As she went through the motions she didn't even notice that Donovan's eyes were practically glued to her all night.

"You alright?" Donovan asked, his voice full of genuine concern.

"Hmm?" She lifted her gaze from the glass in her hand to his face and the circles under her eyes told him what he needed to know.

His shoulders slumped. "You met him, didn't you?"

Delilah went back to cleaning glasses. "I don't want to talk about it."

The phone rang, interrupting Donovan before he could press any more. "Yeah?" he answered. Without another word, he hung up and looked to Delilah. "He wants to see you."

Her eyes flashed to the lounge window and back to Donovan. "Now?"

"Now," he confirmed, feeling sorry for her. He wished he could keep her from having to go up there, but in this town the true power lied up in that room.

Each step brought her closer to the room that had haunted her dreams last night and to the man that had caused it. When she entered, he was alone waiting for her.

"Come in. Have a seat," he gestured to the seat across from him.

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she obliged. Crossing her legs, she tried to avoid his penetrating gaze.

"Timid little one, aren't we?" he observed, straightening out his beige vest. She didn't answer. "You are quite the… _troublesome_ employee," he hissed. "I sure do hope those… martinis," he drew out the word, "are worth it."

Delilah bit her lip, not knowing what he expected her to say. The last thing she wanted to do was anger him.

"What's your story, little one? How'd you come to step foot into my club in the first place?"

"Well," she started slowly, being sure to choose her words wisely. "As you already know, I came with a date."

"Yes, and how did you end up with such a specimen?" he said with a hint of disgust.

"I met him at work. He had seemed nice, but I was wrong about him," her eyes fell to her hands out of shame and embarrassment. "I assume he's dead," she stated, almost questioningly. His silence spoke volumes. She bit back tears and jumped as he lunged toward her, kneeling with a hand pointed up to her eyes.

"See now this is interesting. The guy tried to date rape you," he said bluntly. "And here you are… nearly shedding tears for him."

"That makes two men who have died because of me. I feel guilty—"

"Don't be stupid. They didn't die because of your actions. They died because of theirs," he said sharply. "It's a tough world we live in." He rose. "Predators and the prey. Kill or lose power. There's no room for innocence."

She stared up at him in silence, and his finger found her chin, making her flinch as he lifted her to stand before him.

"Let your inner darkness loose before your innocence gets you killed." His fingers trailed down her neck to her bare shoulders. He began to circle her as he had done the night before, his fingers sending electricity through her at his touch. Coming full circle, her eyes caught his and something he saw there made him stop. Growling, his features darkened. Lifting his cane up, she thought he may hit her with it but he just used it to tap it on the door behind her. The door opened and there Frost stood. "Get her out of here."

* * *

"You should quit."

"Excuse me?" She met Donovan's gaze, completely caught off guard.

"I said," he approached her. "You should quit. The past couple times you've come in you've looked like hell."

"Ah, shucks. Flatter me why don't ya," she rolled her eyes sarcastically.

Donovan gave a rather attractive chuckle. "I'm serious. Places like this, well they're full of darkness. Your innocence attracts it. There's plenty of bad people who want to snuff out any light they come across or take it for themselves."

"You know what the weirdest part is?" She lowered her voice to a whisper. "When I went home last night, there was a brand new tv mounted on my living room wall."

"How'd it get there?"

"I think it's a gift from," she jerked her heads towards the lounge. "I just don't know how they got into my apartment in the first place."

"You've got to get out, Delilah," he shook his head, knowing full well that The Joker's men had put it there. He knew they could find a means to do pretty much anything they wanted. His guess would be they copied her key in the break room or just had the manager let them in.

Delilah sighed. "Unfortunately, I don't think quitting is an option." Her eyes flitted to the lounge area and she wondered if Mr. J was watching their conversation at that very moment. She knew that where his seat was located he had a perfect view of the bar. She also knew that he would not be happy if he knew what they were talking about.

Donovan leaned closer to her and she could smell the peppermint of his toothpaste on his breath. "What if I had a way out? We could talk more about it somewhere outside of work." He shrugged. "Maybe over lunch or something," he added suggestively.

A smirk played on her face. "You mean, like a date?"

He ran a hand back through his hair. "Well, I wasn't going to just come out and say it, but yeah. What do ya say?"

She bit her lip, thinking it over. "Yeah. I would like that." Playing with him, she asked, "So should I be watching out for you, Donovan? Do you have darkness in you?"

"Oh, you have no idea," he winked, evoking a lighthearted laugh from her.

Up in the lounge, eyes like ice watched the pair. The Joker seethed as he watched Donovan make Delilah light up with ease.

* * *

Tapping her heel of her shoes on the sidewalk, Delilah waited impatiently for Donovan to arrive. They had made plans to meet here at DiAngelo's, an Italian restaurant located in the heart of Gotham, for lunch to discuss his 'way out' and enjoy a nice, quiet date. Pulling her phone free from her coat pocket, she checked the time. 12:35 pm. He was exactly thirty five minutes late and she was beginning to get worried. Had he bailed out on her? She could definitely say being stood up would be a first. Not something to brag about. It was getting to the point that she perked up every time she saw a taxi approach, but each time someone that wasn't Donovan climbed out her heart sank even further. With a heavy sigh, she called it and headed home to get ready for work. Maybe he just forgot. She'd just talk to him later.

However, later never really came. This was because he never even showed up for his shift. Or the shift after that. Or the shift after that. It had been three days and no sign of him. In fact, it didn't seem like he was coming back because the next day Frost arrived at the bar with a new bartender for Delilah to train.

"Delilah, this is Faith. She's new so teach her the ropes around here." Frost gestured to the tall blonde at his side.

"Hi," Faith smiled brightly, extending a well-polished hand to Delilah.

Shaking the woman's hand, she then turned on Frost. "What happened to Donovan? Is he okay?"

"You need to forget about him. He left for a job across town. Shift's starting in five minutes so you two better get started," he answered coolly before leaving, not wanting to elaborate.

It was close to the end of the shift and already Delilah felt like she wanted to blow her brains out. _Bad choice of words_ , she thought to herself as images of Big Paulie flooded her mind. All night it seemed like Faith was way more interested in meeting their boss than actually making drinks.

"I hear he's a real badass," Faith gushed, fluffing her hair.

"Yep. That's him," Delilah answered dismissively.

"So you've met him?!" Faith leaned onto the bar, wanting way more details than Delilah would ever give. Faith was the epitome of a busty blonde who was looking for a sugar daddy.

"A couple times." Delilah rang up an elderly man who had been waiting on Faith to take his money. "Can we just focus on—"

"So what's it take to get some time with him?"

"I don't know. Look, we've got to ring out these last couple people since we're closing in a few minutes. Do you wanna—"

"Nah. It's alright. You'll be faster anyway," Faith sat staring up at the lounge window with want. Delilah just rolled her eyes and finished up with the customers.

"Delilah!" Frost called to her from across the room and both girl's spun on him. Faith watched with jealousy as he guided her upstairs. She was getting really tired of being summoned up here. This time when she entered she saw that he was behind his personal bar, preparing a couple drinks. As usual, Frost gave them privacy. She wished that just one of these times he would stay. She knew that if Mr. J wanted to kill her that Frost wouldn't stand in the way, but his presence was still somewhat comforting to her.

"Sit," Joker commanded.

She accepted a seat at the bar, watching as he expertly prepared his signature drinks for the two of them. Swallowing hard, she asked, "Why did you hire me, Mr. J?"

"Why not?" he poured the bright green drink into each glasses, topping hers off with a red cherry before setting it in front of her.

She really wasn't wanting to drink alcohol — especially not around him — but she knew to refuse could prove to be a bad decision on her part. Her slender fingers glided over the cool surface of the glass as she sipped on the beverage. Going down it was sweet, but left a bitter bite. "I just don't understand why you offered me a job without even talking to me first."

"For the money, of course," he answer matter-of-factly.

"The money?" she asked, completely confused.

"Having a bartender as _delectable_ as you brings in more cash flow from the bar and therefore into my pocket. All those horny men just _dying_ for a chance to talk to someone like you, hoping to take you home… to get you into their bed."

"But the dancers… wouldn't they be easier to—"

"It's not as much of a challenge. You're the good girl. They feed on the feeling they're robbing you of what makes you good."

Her face turned red and she dropped her head, hoping to hide her embarrassment.

Coming around the bar, he lifted her chin with his finger. His eyes bore into hers, taking in the bright ocean eyes that had angered him so. He always seemed to be studying her. "Someone like you should hold her head up high. Don't be embarrassed by their desire for you. It gives you power. Embrace it. _Use_ it." His finger glided over her full, pink lips and she couldn't deny the electricity it sent through her to her core. Lust filled his eyes and his cinnamon breath came heavier.

"Mr. J," she spoke softly. "I think you have the wrong idea about me. Maybe you'd want Faith up here. She's been talking about you non-stop and—"

He pressed his finger to her lips, stopping her. "Enough. I know what I want." Moving up behind her, he placed a hand at the small of her back. His breath tickled against the skin of her neck as he whispered in her ear, "And I _always_ get what I want."

 **Reviews please! 3**


	5. Five

**A/N: Thank you so much for all the follows/favorites! Also to inperfection for the review!**

* * *

To say Delilah wasn't shaken by her encounter with The Joker would be an absolute lie. She'd have to be half crazy not to be. After all, he was The Joker. She could still feel the heat of his breath on her ear as he whispered those words — ' _And I always get what I want_.' Right after that he had told Frost to take her home. What did he mean by that anyway? What exactly did he want from her? Donovan had once warned her about him, saying that he had seen him with a lot of girls before. However, it was always the same — he would play with them for awhile but then they would lose their new toy glow and he would cast them off. When she had asked what would happen to them, he had said he didn't know. He would never see any of them again. Honestly, that didn't really mean much because if he had 'dumped' them they may not want to show their faces back at the club anyhow.

Delilah mentally cursed herself for in a way defending The Joker, but she couldn't help it. She had a habit of thinking rationally and she didn't like to jump to conclusions. She had to see things for herself. Of course, lately she had seen way more than she had wanted. Shaking her head, she slid a hand up her bedroom wall, flipping the light on and freezing when she saw she had yet another gift from Joker.

She chewed on her lip as she stepped over to her bed. Hands on her hips, she stared down suspiciously at the silver box before reaching down to check the card attached. Handwritten letters were scratched onto the smooth paper in dark green ink. ' _I'll be requiring your services outside of the club. Be downstairs and ready to go at 8 pm tomorrow evening._ ' Tossing the paper aside, she placed her hands on either side of the box, lifting the lid to reveal purple tissue paper. Her fingers pulled back the tissue paper and her heart nearly stopped.

"Oh, dear God," she breathed. After examining the contents, she replaced the lid and sat the box on her dresser, not wanting to think about tomorrow. Changing into some pajama shorts and a tank top, she climbed into bed and slowly drifted off to sleep.

She wasn't able to put off thinking about it for long though. Sunshine crept in through her blinds, stirring her from her blissful sleep. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, they landed on the silver box. Groaning, she flopped back onto her pillow. What on earth could he need her other than serving drinks? After about an hour of laying in bed pondering what the answer could be, she finally pulled herself from bed to jump into the shower. She spent the rest of the day relaxing and preparing for the night — both mentally and physically — and before she knew it, it was 7:50 pm. Five minutes later, she was outside waiting for her ride and sure enough, a limo pulled up to her building. 8:00 on the dot. Frost emerged from the driver's seat, buttoning his suit jacket as he came around to open the door. She had expected to climb in, but was instead met by Joker jumping out.

Holding his hands out in front of himself, he looked her over as if he was appreciating a painting in a museum. "What a vision," his voice rumbled in his chest.

Delilah shifted uncomfortably in the gift he had left for her — a white chiffon gown with a sweetheart neckline decorated with sparkling rhinestones and a full length flowing skirt with a slit that almost reached her hip. She was glad she had a nice pair of white lace panties because she had a feeling it was going to be hard to keep them from showing a little. He had also provided her with a pair of simple silver strappy heels, a diamond necklace that probably cost more than most cars and a bracelet to match. This was probably the nicest and most expensive outfit she had ever seen, let alone worn, and she was more than uncomfortable. Having no control over what she wore was one of the scariest things for her and she knew the Joker knew it too.

"What's wrong, sweet Delilah?" he hummed. "Don't like the gifts?"

"They're beautiful. Thank you," she smiled politely.

"But?" His fingers grazed her chocolate hair that she had braided into a half updo.

"It's just not what I'm used to wearing," she shrugged.

"Pushing your limits, dearie." He smirked as he helped her into the car, "Pushing your limits."

Joker climbed in after her, sitting opposite her. Once the car was rolling down the street, she drew up some courage to ask about what he had planned. "So, um, what 'services' am I providing tonight?"

"Curious, are we?" he gave a humored smile.

"It would just be nice to know what is expected of me so I don't disappoint," she replied, shifting under his stare.

"I just need you to sit and look pretty." His fingers tapped on his cane. "We're meeting a business partner of mine at his club and I want you to do what you do best. Sit and listen to his men. Then report to me if you hear anything… _fishy_." He drew out the last syllable.

"Got it," she nodded, not looking forward to the night at all. Not one bit. Being in one of his business partner's clubs meant she would be surrounded by criminals, which wasn't usually a highlight of her days but was becoming more and more common.

The outside of the building was dark, but a warm orange glow emanated from the script sign above the door reading 'Vincenzzo's'. Frost pulled the car to a stop in front of the building, opening the door for Joker and Delilah.

"Remember what I said," Joker said in his husky voice, holding his arm out for her to take.

The two walked towards the door and Joker smirked as he felt her unconsciously cling tighter onto his arm as they stepped inside. It was extremely ironic that the most dangerous guy in the room made her feel safer.

"Ah! Mr. J!" A Herculean man with brown hair tied back in a ponytail exclaimed as he approached them with open arms, but before he could wrap either of them into a strong hug he caught himself. Joker didn't like to shake hands and he sure as hell didn't hug business partners. Clapping his heavily ringed hands together, he jumped into business. "Boss, is waiting for you in the back."

"Straight to the point," Joker cracked his neck. "I like that." To Delilah, he pointed to a table against the wall where he knew she would easily be able to hear the others in the bar. "Why don't you wait for daddy over there? Half a moment." He flashed a silver grin at her before disappearing behind a large red door at the back.

Perching herself up on a barstool, she tapped her fingers lazily on the table in attempt to appear bored and absent-minded. There weren't too many people in the club and most were talking about women and money. A couple were even comparing their size of their guns. _If it's not one thing, it's another_ , she thought. Every single person in the club was packing. That fact made her even more nervous than before and she found herself wishing Mr. J would come back. Nearly thirty minutes had passed and she was about convinced she wasn't going to hear anything at all when something caught her attention.

"Yeah, and one of his own men is how we got the information," a short, heavier set man bellowed as he threw back a pint of beer, making a couple of his friends roar with laughter.

"No one can be on top forever," another added. "It's our turn now." The men clinked their glasses in a toast.

All the laughter and bar talk quieted to a low hum as another voice boomed over the rest. "Stay! Have a drink. In celebration of our new deal, eh?"

Delilah turned to see a bald, thickset man with hooded eyes walking with Joker to where she sat waiting. He waved his arm, gesturing to the surroundings. "If not that, then to celebrate the opening of the new place with me." Everything about this man screamed Italian mob boss. His pinstripe shirt was unbuttoned to reveal numerous gold chains hanging amongst a mass of dark chest hair. Not a single finger wasn't adorned with chunky gold rings.

"One, Yakavetta. I'm a busy man," Joker agreed, sitting onto the barstool next to Delilah and resting his hands on his cane. Yakavetta shouted an order of drinks to the bartender before taking a seat across from them. His eyes lit up as they found the woman sitting at Joker's side.

"This your new lady, Joker?" Yakavetta's eyes glided over her, making her skin crawl.

Joker was still, but yet managed a raspy response. "This stunning _little lamb_ is Delilah. She's on my payroll."

"Another dancer, eh?" Yakavetta nodded in approval.

"Bartender," she corrected and Joker shot her a quick look out of the corner of his eye.

"Mmm. Shame. I definitely would be stopping into Grin and Bare It more if I knew you;d be on the stage." Yakavetta took her hand, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. Keeping his eyes on her, he addressed Joker, "Where do you keep finding these pretty little things, Mr. J?"

Delilah seemed to be the only one at the table who noticed Joker's heavy breathing and darkened eyes that burned into Yakavetta. Trying to avoid any outburst that may or may not happen, she jumped in to answer for him. "I was actually a visitor at his club when he found me."

"You know, Yakavetta," Joker started, seeming to have regained a bit of his calmness. "I'll have to catch a drink with you another time. It's time me and the lovely lady take our leave."

"Whatever you say," Yakavetta shrugged, getting up from the table along with them.

Joker's arm appeared in front of her and she gladly took it, feeling the sense of safety and comfort that she had been looking for in the past forty-five minutes. "Shall we?"

She let him lead her back to the car where Frost was leaning back waiting for their return. "Well?" Joker tapped his hand on the other atop his cane.

Delilah's eyebrows rose in confusion. "Well what?"

"What did the little angel pick up?" he hissed.

She took a deep breath, knowing he wasn't going to like it. "Um, well a couple guys were going on about how one of 'someone's' men was turning on them'. I assumed they meant you because they also said 'no one can be on top forever'."

Her heart sped up as she watched his face darken. He glanced up at her and in a split second he was up against her with his hand on her throat. Even though he wasn't applying any pressure, it still scared the hell out of her. "You better be completely honest with me, pet. If you're wrong about this, it could start a war or _worse_ ," he growled into her face.

Her body shook under his touch. "That's— That's exactly what I heard."

His eyes fell to her lips as his thumb began to caress the soft skin of her throat. With a groan, he removed his hand and sat upright at her side. The rest of the ride was silent except for the quick tapping as he sent text after text to some of his most trusted men. He was going to get to the bottom of this.

* * *

Even though it had been a very busy day at work and she spent most of it cleaning up after Faith, Delilah was glad to be back to her regular duties. She would be absolutely fine if she never had to live through another night like last night. Now she stood over her bathroom sink, trying desperately to scrub out a stain from one of the Joker's signature drinks from her gold skirt. Faith had ran right into Delilah as she was trying to serve a customer his drink, effectively spilling the alcohol all over her. She had apologized profusely but that didn't do a thing to save the skirt. Writing the skirt off as a lost cause, she tossed it onto the counter. It was three in the morning and she just wanted to hit the sack. Plopping face first onto her pillow, she felt something fall down and hit her hand. _Not again,_ she internally complained. Groaning, she turned her head to the side to see a small velvet box sat idly on her bed. Sitting up, she read the note attached, the same dark green ink as before reading 'You did splendid. How about a reward?'. Inside the box, sat a pair of beautiful diamond earrings that sparkled even in the darkness of her room. _Okay, that's it. Time to find out how the hell he keeps getting these things in here,_ she thought as she pulled on a pair of ripped jeans, a floral form-fitting top, and her leather jacket. She had made up her mind, she was going to find the Joker and ask him once and for all. Slipping into a pair of white chucks and tying her hair back in a loose french braid, she was out the door and it wasn't long before she was at the entrance of Grin and Bare It.

The neon green glow was absent, making the building look very eerie in the darkness of the night. She had known that Joker closed the club down for the night to deal with some business, but this was the only place she knew of that he frequented so she had to give it a shot. It was her lucky day. The back door was unlocked and she let herself in.

 _This is probably my worst idea yet. What in the hell has gotten into me lately?_ she asked herself. The entire building was dark except for a single light emanating from the Joker's lounge. Mustering up every ounce of courage in her body, she crept toward the door. Giving a gentle knock, she waited. No answer. She didn't know what she had really expected, but what happened next was definitely not on that list. The door jerked open behind her and in one swift motion she was pulled inside and slammed back against the wall. She found herself staring straight into Joker's icy blue eyes, his arm pressed across her chest as he pinned her to the wall. The smell of alcohol hit her hard as he shouted, "What the fuck are you doing here?! I gave you the night off for a reason." He rolled his eyes in annoyance as she stumbled over her words, not being able to form an explanation. "Spit it out!"

"I wanted to ask you something!" she burst, clenching her eyes shut. "But it can wait if you don't want—" Joker's hand covered her mouth, silencing her. Stepping away from her, he paced back and forth in front of her. Her eyes fell to the gun hanging in his hand. "Were— Were you going to shoot me?"

His eyes flashed with anger. "It crossed my mind."

A huge knot tied in her stomach and it just got even worse as he got back up in her face. Using the barrel of the gun, he brushed a strand of hair out of her face, making her shiver. Oh, how he likes it when she shivers…

He holstered his gun and she took that as her chance to ask what she had come here to ask. "How have you been leaving stuff in my apartment?"

Letting out one of his famous laughs, he wiggled his fingers in the air. "A magician never reveals his secrets, bright eyes." Turning away from her, he started toward the couch. His maroon button down was undone and she caught a glimpse of a large 'Joker' tattoo across his lower abdomen. Her curiosity had her wondering what the other tattoos were.

She should've seen that coming. Of course he wouldn't tell her. Why would he? That would ruin his element of surprise and he couldn't be having that. "Well, thanks for the earrings anyway. They're amazing." He didn't seem too interested in her gratitude, but he turned to face her with a look of surprise when she said, "No one has ever given me gifts like that before. Never even gotten flowers from a guy before." She gave a half-hearted chuckle. "I, um, just wanted to let you know that I truly appreciate it."

"Keep helping me with my business deals and there'll be many, many more to come," he said, waving his hands in the air theatrically and Delilah grew quiet, silently wishing it had been more than just the business deal. It would've meant even more to her… even though it was from him.

Grabbing a half empty glass of whiskey he had been drinking before her arrival and threw back the rest of the glass's contents. Delilah turned and reached a hand out towards the door, but his hand appeared on her wrist, stopping her. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I just figured you wanted to be alone. I'm just going to go home and get some sleep."

"Quite the contrary. I could use a little… _distraction_ ," he rasped. Returning to the bar, he poured a generous glass of bourbon and handed it out to her, but she just shook her head.

"No, thank you. I don't drink."

"Tonight… you do," he stated, pushing the glass into her hand. "Let's see if we can get you to take a walk on the dark side for a night." Biting her lip, she took a seat on the couch, knowing she shouldn't piss him off. A wide humored grin spread on his face as she played his little game. "Tell me about your parents."

 _Oh, here we go,_ she thought. Chugging the entire glass of bourbon, she hoped it would get her through this uncomfortable topic.

"Easy there, angel. I won't be carrying you home tonight," he warned, sitting on the arm of the chair across from her.

Staring out the window to the bar down below, she said, "My parents were killed when I was very little."

"How?"

"Home invasion. My parents woke to the sound of glass breaking downstairs. My grandmother said that it had been at least three men. Luckily, my parents had hidden me in a hidden storage area we had in our bench. I heard everything. The screams. My father fighting to try to protect my mother. The gunshots. The sound of his lifeless body thudding on the hardwood floor." Delilah wiped a tear away as it hit her cheek. "But that wasn't even the worst part." Joker sat attentively, taking in every detail of her miserable life story. "The worst part was that the bench had a iron grating on the front. The holes just big enough for me to see out of. My mother had landed right in front of the bench. I laid there for nearly two hours staring into my mother's dead eyes with her head sitting in the pool of her own blood." Delilah grimaced as the image invaded her mind.

"Go on." Joker took her empty glass from her, filling it once more as she continued her story.

"I went to live with my grandma after that. Everything was great, but when I was nineteen she suffered a fatal heart attack. After that I was alone. I had been left enough money to take care of all the funeral costs, but that was about it. I've been bouncing around ever since. Just me." Her life had been a lonely one and maybe that was why she was afraid to get close to anyone. The fear of losing loved ones was always in the back of her mind.

"No lovers to pass the time? Ease the pain?" he questioned. He actually seemed genuinely interested in everything she was telling him.

"There was this one guy, but he didn't exactly ease the pain in my life. Just exasperated it," she shook her head, hating that her ex had been brought up. All she ever wanted to do was forget about him entirely. Not giving Mr. J a chance to press the subject, she changed it completely. "What exactly do you expect from me?"

"Expect from you?" he narrowed his eyes on her as if it was a stupid question.

"Aside from serving up some excellent drinks — What am I here?"

"Hmm." He brought a finger to his lips. "Well, that depends."

"On?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

If we can get this pesky innocence out of the way and get to the _real_ fun. You start accepting the darkness that dwells deep inside of you and maybe you'll have a place in my ranks."

"And what if I say no?" she asked a bit more seductively than she had intended.

"No one denies me. Remember,"he paused, pushing up from the arm of the chair. "I _always_ get what I want."

She was unnerved by the way his stare was making her feel, sending heat waves through her to her core. "I'll keep that in mind." Rising to her feet, she sat the glass down on the bar and headed for the door. "I'm just going to walk home. I'm really tired and I don't want to oversleep."

"Not before I try something." he growled.

She stopped, slowly facing him just in time for him to wrap his hand around the back of her neck and pull her into a kiss. Delilah was surprised at first, completely taken off guard, but she couldn't deny the fact that she enjoyed it. It wasn't long before she was kissing him back, allowing him to deepen the kiss as his other hand wrapped itself into her hair. His kisses were rough, but full of passion and desire. This was turning into quite a surprising night…

* * *

 **Reviews please and thank you! :)**


	6. Six

**Thanks for the review, guys! I truly, truly appreciate it. I feel like everything is moving so fast. It's a least a lot faster than it has been with other stories. They were a lot longer lol. BUT this was only meant to be a quick one. If I get good feedback from it, I'll probably expand on it. :) Enjoy!**

* * *

Stretching her legs and arms Delilah slowly began to wake from a deep sleep, rolling over in what she thought was her bed. But wait a sec… something wasn't right. Since when did her 'bed' have a wall. Opening her eyes she saw that it wasn't in fact a wall but the back of a white leather couch and she wasn't cuddling up in her maroon comforter, but a suit jacket. Panic setting in, she flipped around and nearly fell from the couch to the floor of Mr. J's lounge. Her eyes landed on the first person she saw — Frost. He was kicked back in the chair at the far side of the room, eyeing her with a glint of humor in his eye.

"About damn time," he said, checking his watch. "Thought I was going to have to wake you myself."

Sitting up, she straighten out her top and stared sheepishly over at him, setting the suit jacket that she assumed was Mr. J's neatly aside. "What am I still doing here?"

"All J said was that you passed out last night after only one and a half glasses of bourbon. You better watch out. Sounds like you're a hardcore alcoholic," he teased.

"Very funny," Delilah smirked. "What time is it?"

"Noon. Better get cleaned up and get ready to begin prep for the day. Boss is opening the club tonight." Frost rose and pulled out a toothbrush and toothpaste for her, which she gladly accepted. "THere's some clothes waiting for you downstairs in the employee bathroom."

Delilah thanked him and headed down. The mirror was not going to be her friend — she knew her hair had to be crazy since she had fallen asleep with it still in its braid. Stepping up to the mirror she braced herself and, lo and behold, her hair wasn't a train wreck. It must've been thanks to being on the couch and being limited to how much she could move. Nevertheless, she shook it out to be re-braided. Just as Frost said, there was a hanger in the bathroom with a light pink off the shoulder crop top, a mid-thigh length white skirt, thigh high white stockings and a pair of studded white pumps. Of course… Joker really was making her look like the pin-up version of the girl next door, huh? Shaking her head, she changed into the new clothes before brushing her teeth and touching up her makeup. She dabbed her ring finger lightly on her lips, applying some nude lip gloss, but her reflection caught her attention and the memories of last night rang throughout her mind. _Mr. J's hands were on her waist, holding her back against the door as his lips were melding against hers. Kissing down to her neck, he let out small groans against her soft skin, growling out, "Mmmm. Delicate Delilah…"_

Snapping out of it, she snatched up her things and headed out to the bar. She got right to work, hoping that setting up the bar would help keep her mind off of last night's events. It wasn't long before Faith entered the building, chomping hard on a piece of gum.

"Whatcha doin' here so early?" Faith leaned onto the bar. "I'm scheduled in for prep. You didn't have to be here for another hour."

"It's fine, Faith," Delilah replied, not really wanting to reveal the reason she was here already. "Why don't you just come around here and help me finish?"

Faith sat eyeing her nails. "Looks like you're pretty much done."

Delilah rolled her eyes.

"You weren't here because you were here all night with the Boss, were ya?" Faith asked jokingly, but when Delilah didn't make an attempt to respond she grew serious. "Wait. You serious?"

"What?" Delilah feigned ignorance.

"Are you fuckin' the boss?" Faith asked bluntly.

"Oh, my God! No!" Delilah shut that down real quick… or at least she tried to.

"Mhmm. I can tell you are." Faith nodded. "It's alright. You don't have to hide it. You're his old lady, aren't ya?" Faith pushed some more, but Delilah laughed it off.

"No, Faith. I'm not his old lady. He's simply my boss." But even as the words left her mouth, images of last night crept back up, making her wonder herself. Surely she was just another game to him. Unconvinced, Faith's eyes bounced back and forth between Delilah and the upstairs lounge.

The night went by fairly smoothly with only a couple hiccups caused by Faith's lack of attention to what she was doing. Everything had been cleaned up and the rest of the employees had headed home for the night — all except for Delilah. Again she stood in front of the employee bathroom mirror, inspecting her appearance. There was a knocking on the bathroom door before it cracked open.

"The car is ready out back. Come out when you're done," Frost commanded from outside the door.

"What's this all about, Frost?" she inquired, still not used to being in the dark when it came to why she was needed.

"Hurry up," he ignored her. "You have ten minutes. Boss doesn't like to be kept waiting." The door creaked closed as Frost went to take his spot in the car.

Tonight's outfit wasn't actually all that bad. She actually felt pretty comfortable wearing it. It was a white sweetheart crop top with a light pink hi lo skirt and some beige scrappy heels that wrapped around her ankle. _This is doable_ , she thought to herself. Pinning her hair back, she hurried out to the car, not wanting to be late.

Climbing into the back seat, she sees that he is already waiting for her. "Ah, there she is," he said in a sing song voice. "You look like an angel. Just as the day you walked into the club."

 _He seems to be in a rather giddy mood,_ she thought. "What're we doing, J?" she asked. While she referred to tonight's plans, deep down she had other meaning behind the question as well — a more personal meaning.

"Taking care of a little business. It's time to deal with those rats over at Vincenzzo's," Mr. J smiled broadly, clearly excited.

"What do you mean deal with?"

"Let's just say he is expecting this to be a quick meeting with a business partner, but instead… it's the _exterminator_." His eyes flashed wildly.

Delilah's heart sank. "You're going to kill them?"

"Do I sense some disapproval, _angel_?" Mr. J tilted his head toward her. "It's what I do. It's just _business_."

"But why am I here then? I won't help kill anyone," she stated, staring down at her hands.

"Don't worry your _pretty little head,"_ he said, patting the top of her head with each word. "Daddy will take care of the killing. You're here simply to keep up the impression that I'm here for a mere discussion. He won't expect a fight if I bring you along."

She didn't like the sound of this one bit. "So there's a chance I'll get caught in the crossfire then?"

"There's always a chance of that when you're with me. Part of the job." His eyes were glued to the pistol in his hand, which he shoved into one of his holsters as he climbed out of the car. Holding his hand out, he helped her step out onto the sidewalk. "Little tip," he paused. "Keep your head down when the bullets start to fly."

 _Oh, my God. I'm going to die tonight,_ she panicked. Putting on the bravest face she could muster, she linked her arm in Joker's, letting him lead her into certain death.

They were greeted by Yakavetta's booming Italian accent. "Joker! Nice to see you!" Turning to the man at his side, who she recognized as the man who had greeted them at their last visit, he said, "I'm afraid I forgot to introduce my number two. His name is Tony, but everyone around here calls him 'Four Fingers'."

"Better watch out for those 'number two' men. Those are usually the ones to betray you," Joker flashed a bright silver smile at Yakavetta and 'Four Fingers before letting out a loud cackle, letting his last laugh draw out into a high pitched screech. Removing Delilah's arms from his, he stepped toward Yakavetta which put him directly in front of her. Resting both hands on his cane, he continued, "Me, on the other hand, I _always_ stay true to my word. So when I say that anyone who double crosses me will pay _dearly_ , well—" Joker swung his cane forward, striking 'Four Fingers' across his skull, knocking him to the ground before pulling his pistol free and firing at Yakavetta. The bullet went straight through Yakavetta's shoulder. Frost and more of Joker's men came piling in, firing at anyone in Yakavetta's crew.

Delilah screamed and darted toward the bar to hide, but she wasn't quite fast enough. Adrenaline pumped through her as her ears were filled with the deafening sounds of shots being shot off, but even amongst all the noise she could still hear the maniacal laughter of The Joker.

Spotting Delilah ducking for cover behind the bar, Joker barked an order to Frost. "Frost! The girl. Get her to the car."

Just two strides and Frost was at her side, scooping her up into his strong arms. Before the club entrance could close behind them, Delilah looked back to see Joker firing like a madman into the club, striking down the rest of Yakavetta's men. Frost slid her into the seat, checking her over.

"We need to get you some medical attention," he said hurriedly.

"Why?" she asked, surprised. "I feel fine. Just a little dizzy. That was an intense—"

"Delilah," he interrupted, his eyes wide and demanding her attention. "You've been shot."


	7. Seven

_"That slimy bastard got away!" Joker roared, slamming his fist down onto a nearby table and rattling the medical tools, sending some to the floor._

 _"We'll get him, boss. You shot him. He'll probably slink into a hole for awhile and—" She could hear Frost try to calm him, but it took someone special to calm the Joker._

 _"I want him NOW!" Joker growled before Delilah faded back out of consciousness._

 _"What's taking so damn long!?" Joker grabbed a fistful of the doctor's jacket, leaning down into the man's face._

 _"I— I'm working as fast as I can. I've got the bullet out and the bleeding is stopped. I just need to—" the doctor stuttered. He was a nervous wreck. There he had been, walking to his car at the end of his shift, just wanting to get home to his recliner and the ball game. Then before he knew it, he was thrown into the back of a limo and told to treat a young lady for a gunshot wound._

 _"Stitch her back up, doctor," Joker's voice fell to a threatening growl. "Or I will rip that spine of yours right through your back."_

Everything seemed to be a dream as Delilah went in and out of consciousness, aware of what was going on around her but not being able to move or say anything. But now she let out a pained groan as she tried to sit up only to be met by a burning pain in her side.

"Now, now, angel," a familiar voice rasped. "You need to lie back."

Blinking her eyes repeatedly, she squinted until they finally found electric green-haired man she had expected. "What happened?" she asked in a scratchy whisper. Taking in her unfamiliar surroundings she found more questions arising. "Where am I?"

The walls were painted a rich shade of dark gray with some elegant looking wood embellishments painted in the same color to add some flair. All the furniture was black including the sheets on the bed — satin, as if she had expected anything less. Around the room were accents of gold and bright green. There was a intricately designed golden mirror hanging on the wall to her right above a black dresser. A warm, cherry wood flooring added a bit of warmth to the room. What caught her attention the most was the rather large painting that hung above the back of the bed. It looked to be around 40"x48" and it was quite striking. It was mainly white with big expressionistic black brush strokes with splashes of electric green. If you looked at it just right it almost looked like a large grin. There was so much emotion in it that Delilah was immediately drawn in, wanting to solve its hidden puzzle. There was now no doubt in her mind whose bed she was now lying in…

"Like that, do you?" Mr. J came to sit at the side of the bed, a glass of water in his hand. Holding it out for her to take, he said, "Drink."

The cool water soothed her throat instantly and she hummed in delight. "Thank you. And yes… I do. It's very… complex." _Like its owner…_ her eyes found his steel blues and she saw something there… something new. She couldn't quite place her finger on it, but if she had to guess, she would say confusion. "So what happened?"

His eyes fell to her abdomen. "One of Yakavetta's men shot you," he growled. "Seems he thought it would be funny. But in the end… he was the punchline." Delilah bit her lip, knowing the man had definitely been taken care of. "We found a doc who was kind enough to _volunteer_ and he fixed you up. All shiny and new again."

It was all a bit hazy but Delilah faintly remembered hearing Joker threatening the doctor. For someone who hadn't seemed to care about putting her in a dangerous situation, he had sure seemed to care about getting her all fixed up. "Can I ask you something?"

A wide humored grin spread on hips lips. "You just did. But I guess you may have another shot."

"Why didn't you just let me die back there? Why go through the trouble to keep me alive?"

Placing his smile tattooed hand across her mouth, he said, "You wouldn't believe how hard it is to find a decent bartender in this city."

Her fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling his hand down from her face. His smile left his face at the feeling. "What's the real reason? From what I've heard about you, I would've guessed I would be back there rotting with the rest of Yakavetta's men and yet here I am… in your home."

"Maybe I'm just not done playing with my fun new toy." He rocked his head side to side with each word.

"And what happens when you are?" she asked, not sure if she wanted the answer even though she had a feeling she already knew.

"Enough with all these pesky _questions,"_ he said, twirling his fingers in the air. "I'm going to have Frost snag us some food. I'm _famished."_

Fortune had apparently been on Delilah's side as far as where the bullet had hit her. Just another inch to the right and it would've done significantly more damage. Simply muscle had been penetrated and it had been nearly a week and a half since she had been brought to the Joker's mansion to recover. It was such beautiful place. She couldn't keep herself from exploring. Every room was a beautiful as the last, but there was still one that she hadn't gotten to see. On her way to check it out, Frost had stopped her. 'Boss wouldn't like you being in there,' he had said. Of course he wouldn't… he wouldn't be The Joker if he didn't have something secret in his own home. Naturally, that made her all the more curious.

As for Mr. J, well he hadn't been around much. She saw him here and there, but he was usually gone throughout the day and she had yet to see him sleep in his own bed. Delilah hoped he wasn't avoiding it because of her but deep down she knew he probably didn't get much sleep anyway. Even more so now since Yakavetta had escaped alive. Joker was hell bent on remedying that.

Truth be told, she kind of missed having him around. Being in this massive house by herself was making her feel extremely lonely. Sure, she lived alone before but at least then she was going to work. She'd get to see all the undesirables that frequented Grin and Bare It and be reminded why she liked to hole up in her apartment away from the darkness of the world. Even growing up she was generally by herself. Most of the kids would tease her about not having any parents, not knowing or caring how deep their words cut. There were many a night that she would have curled up in bed and cry herself to sleep over something long lost — something she couldn't do a thing about.

Her eyes stared out through the window of Mr. J's room into the surrounding trees as she fought to think about something else. Preferably a happier subject. However, that was more easily said than done. Crossing her arms over her chest, she took a deep calming breath as she closed her eyes. The muscles in her neck were all knotted from all the stress and she rolled her head around in an attempt to work them out. When she opened her eyes again, she froze. They locked onto something on the dresser to her left. How could she have not noticed it before?

There right in the open sat a gold plated handgun with black grips. Questions rang through her mind all at once. _Is it loaded? Why in the hell is it just sitting there? He trusts me enough to leave it here for me to take? I wonder if this is the same kind of gun that shot me…_ Reaching a shaking hand out, she let her fingers glide over the barrel, feeling the coldness of it's surface. A mix of fear and strength flowed through her, thinking back to her injury.

"It's not nice to play with someone else's toys without permission."

Delilah jumped and spun to find Mr. J leaning against his door frame, arms crossed over his chest. "I'm— I'm sorry. I was just getting ready to go to bed and—"

Crossing the room to her, he lifted the bottom of her shirt, obviously not caring about any personal space bubbles. He held it up just high enough to check on her healing wound. The doctor had been by this week and had removed her stitches, saying that everything looked great. He even gave her the all clear to go back to work, but Frost had said the Boss wanted her to rest a few more days. So rest she did… but now she was dying to get back to work. His cool eyes lifted to hers. Dropping her shirt, he snatched up the gun, pulling the ammo clip out to reveal it was in fact loaded. _He must trust me or not think I have the guts to try to take him out,_ she thought. Turning away from her, he said, "I suppose you're going to tell me you're done. Getting shot did you in. You want _out_." His tone was almost mocking, but secretly he just hoped he was wrong.

"That's what I should say, but—" she stopped short, biting her lip and wringing her hands.

"Spit it out, angel," he growled, growing impatient.

"It's just— It's crazy but after everything, I feel… empowered." He slowly turned to face her once more, clearly intrigued. She went on, "I mean, I survived that and I was terrified as hell. I should be terrified of guns now, but I have to say… I feel stronger. Maybe it's stupid."

His lips spread into a wide, humored grin as if he had been right about something all along. "She likes the darkness."

Delilah shook her head. "I didn't say that—"

"You can't lie to me," he pointed at her, stepping closer. "I see it in your eyes. You like the thrill, the danger,… the _power_. You want more. You _crave_ it."

Silence. With every word she spoke, she found it harder and harder to deny it. Something inside of her knew he was right, but she didn't want to admit it. Admitting it would mean that she was becoming one with this world more and more each day.

Extending a hand out to her, he offered her a choice, something that was completely out of his nature. "If you truly can't handle it then leave. Just go and don't look back, but if you can, then stay. But to stay means you are here for good. You're one of us."

"You mean, you'd let me leave?" she raised an eyebrow, not sure if this was some sort of trick or not.

"This is a one time offer, dear. Many people before you haven't been given the same opportunity." He paused. His voice dropping to a low rumble, he said, "So what do ya say? Leave and never see _any_ of us again or stay and join us to test your limits, to _grow_. Think this over carefully." Again biting at her lower lip, she stared down at his hand as she thought over his proposition. Wagging his finger back and forth, he said, "Tick, tock, tick, tock."

Making the decision that would change her life forever, her hand slowly slipped into his. His fingers wrapped around hers, jerking her over to him, pressing her up against himself. His steel eyes stared down into her ocean blues. "Now you're mine."

Maybe it was the feeling of surrender, this _darkness_ he seemed to see inside of her, or the way he did certain things that made her feel like he cared… she didn't know, but something gave her the courage to do what she did next. Her free hand flashed up to the back of his head, tangling her fingers into his electric green hair as she pulled him down to her. Their lips crashed together in a hungry kiss and she felt him smile against her lips. His chest rumbled with a low groan as he pushed her back against the wall, grabbing a fistful of her hair and tilting her head back, he sent flashes of pleasure through her as he trailed kisses down her neck. She grabbed a hold of her shirt, stopping his kisses just long enough to pull it up over her head. Following suit, he jerked on his own, sending buttons popping off in every direction before clattering to the floor. The feeling of his cold hands rubbing up her sides to her black lace bra made goosebumps pop up all up her arms and legs. Stepping back, Joker pulled at her shorts, letting them fall to her ankles. Delilah kicked them off to the side and let out a surprised yip as he wrapped her legs around his waist. She remained pinned to the wall as his hands wandered back to the clasp of her bra. Throwing it off to the side, he pinned her arms up above her head, taking in the sight of her. "Mmm… my little angel…"

His lips were back on hers in an instant and she began pushing her hips closer to his. The fabric of his dress pants causing a teasing friction against her lace underwear. Not letting go of her, Joker moved them towards the bed, throwing her back onto the cool satin sheets. Her chocolate brown hair fell in waves over her shoulders, covering most of her breasts as she stared shyly up at him. His eyes never left her as he worked on his belt, removing his own pants before moving to strip her of her last remaining piece of clothing.

The moonlight shone through the same window she had been staring through earlier, giving his pale skin a menacing glow as he hovered over her. "You ready for me, angel?" he asked seductively, rubbing himself against her slick core. All it took was the small nod of confirmation before he slammed inside of her.

Clutching at the sheets, she let out a satisfied moan as her body quickly adjusted to him, giving way for that sinfully delicious pleasure. "Oh, my God," she breathed, her breath hitching with every thrust.

Joker smirked, thrusting into her harder, loving the way her legs tightened around him as she held on for the ride of her life.

Delilah scratched her fingers down his back, wanting to reach that point of release. The pain caused by her nails digging into his back only seemed to please him even more. She should've known he liked to mix pleasure with pain. Not her, but every single movement by him gave her nothing but pleasure, pushing her closer and closer to her edge. She had never been with anyone who pushed all the right buttons like this before.

"Come for me, baby," he growled into her ear and that was all it took. His words brushing against her skin sent her careening into bliss. Her body stiffened around him and as she enjoyed her high she felt him do the same, emptying himself inside of her before rolling off. Both laid catching their breath in silence before Joker pulled her back against him, wrapping a protective arm around her as they swiftly fell asleep.


	8. Eight

**A/N: Just a reminder — I do have that Polyvore link on my profile for this story if you want to see Delilah's costume. :) I made the image from a model so it's exactly as I pictured her. :) Thanks and enjoy!**

 **Eight**

—

Waking up alone the next morning didn't exactly come as a surprise to Delilah. Sitting up, she held the black satin sheets to her chest, covering her form as she glanced down at the indentations next to her from where Mr. J had laid. Rubbing her cold fingers on her forehead, she felt a flush of embarrassment as she let images of the previous flash through her mind. She was definitely acting like someone she didn't recognize lately. _Had she seriously agreed to stay and be a member of the Joker's group?_ It all seemed like it had just been a dream. But no, this was the reality and it was hitting her hard. Shy little Delilah from Star City… in league with the Joker. _What had she signed up for?_

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she felt something odd on the bottoms of her feet as she padded towards the bathroom. Buttons. _That's right,_ she thought to herself as she remembered having had popped off the buttons of J's shirt. Groaning in embarrassment at her out of character behavior, she shut the door to the bathroom, ready for a hot shower.

Turning the shower on, she took a moment to examine her side. It seemed to have held up nicely despite her night with Joker. The room quickly fogged up from the heat of the water, clouding up the glass of the shower. As if it had been a secret message, the fog on the glass had revealed scribbles that Joker must have written in on the door with his finger. Just two little letters over and over again, mimicking his own tattoo — 'HA HA'. Smirking, she stepped in, letting the heat of the water distract her from pondering on Joker's sanity too long.

It wasn't long before she finished up and was reaching for the lavish white towel she had hung on the side of the shower glass. Wrapping it around herself, she stepped up to the sink and rubbed her hand on the mirror to clear just enough fog away to be able to see herself. After brushing her teeth, she runs her fingers through the tangles of her hair as she returns to the bedroom, stopping short. Right on the foot of the bed is a deep purple box with a silver and lime bow.

There was no question of who it was from, but she did wonder why he didn't stick around. Sliding the lid from the box, she grabbed the small card and glanced past to the delicate lace that was lying beneath it. The card simply read ' _I take care of what's mine'_ in what she recognized to be Joker's handwriting. Tossing it onto the bed next to the box, she carefully lifted the dress free from the confines of the box.

Delilah's breath caught in her chest. The dress was extravagant and elegant. It was completely white lace with a jewel detailed waistline, capped sleeves and a bracelet to match. Biting her lips, she looked down at the shoes remaining in the box. They were each adorned with a rose gold and diamond angel wing that wrapped around the front of her foot. She didn't think she would ever get used to this kind of thing. This wasn't how she was used to living. The most expensive thing that had ever been in her closet prior to this was merely eighty bucks. As if that wasn't enough, there were two more items left in the box — a white lace masquerade mask and a pair of angel wings. Shaking her head, she let out a heavy sigh and began to get ready.

* * *

Every time they would go out, they were driven around in the black BMW with Frost behind the wheel so imagine her surprise when she stepped outside to find Mr. J leaning back against his purple Lamborghini with silver grin plastered on his face. His eyes slid over her form as she closed the distance between them, moving from her long tan legs to her curve of her waist, from her full soft lips to her eyes that stared back at him from behind the mask. She had pulled her hair back into an elegant low bun, letting tendrils fall loosely around her face.

Pulling the door open for her, he gestured for her to climb in. "Sugar…"

"Thank you," she smiled sweetly, careful to take her seat as gracefully as possible. Somehow she felt that if she had stumbled into the car, Joker wouldn't have let her hear the end of it.

The car shifted slightly as he took his place behind the wheel. Smirking over at her, he brought the car to life. "Buckle up, baby."

She didn't hesitate for a second. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that his driving wasn't going to be as controlled as Frost's and she was absolutely right. The sped down the streets of Gotham, weaving in and out of traffic before the other driver's could realize who had even flown past. "Wh- Where is Frost?"

"He's already at the party. Went ahead to make sure the place was secure."

"Next question: where are we going?" Delilah clutched at the handle on the car door, trying not to think about all the painful possibilities of what could happen if he dodged a car just a second too late.

"Halloween Party," he groaned, clearly not liking the idea of having to go. "One of the new mob bosses that's joined our forces was throwing it. He _insisted_ that I make an appearance."

Delilah nodded, not wanting to press for too much info. Plausible deniability— That was the name of the game.

"Bastard just wants to kiss my ass," Joker growled.

"You don't like him?"

"He's all brawn. Got shorted on the brains." Joker not once took his eyes from the road as he spoke to her. "Leaders should be intelligent, imaginative, and resourceful. None of which are qualities that dear Marcel possesses."

"In other words, they should be just like you."

"You flatter me, sweet cheeks. But no one is like me…"

Delilah smiled to herself, knowing this was absolutely true. She had never met anyone like him before. Looking back over at him, a realization came over her. "J, where's your costume?"

"I don't need one, angel. I think my general appearance is costume enough," he replied, stealing a glance over at her. "Besides, haven't you ever noticed how terrified everyone gets when I walk in a room." He cackled with laughter as they arrived at their destination.

Frost was there waiting for them. Joker threw the Lamborghini's keys to him for him to deal with as Joker held his arm out for Delilah to link with hers. Sure enough as they stepped across the threshold, they were met with stares of a mix of fear, curiosity, desire and jealousy. It was a bit too much to handle. "J?" she murmured to him. She instinctively tightened her grip on his arm. Amongst the crowd, she could've worn she caught a glimpse of a familiar face, but it was gone before she could investigate any further.

"Just ignore them. I do. Everyone just wants what I have. Power. Money. A delectable woman on my arm." He paused and his eyes bore into hers. "Just remember… you're mine."

Delilah's lips pulled up into a soft smile. "I know."

"Good," he said in a low voice as he searched the area for a seat. They found a loveseat at the edge of the dance floor. It was occupied by a young 'vampire' couple who looked rather out of place considering this was a party full of criminals; However, they were gone in an instant once they saw that the Joker was heading their way.

"Ah, now would you look at that," J smiled wide. "A seat just cleared for us. How lucky." He clapped his hands together and the two took a seat. Joker slung his arm around her shoulder, holding tight against him as they watched the other party goers.

Delilah wouldn't lie — She felt a little bit of an awkward tension between the two of them and she was pretty sure she was the only one who noticed. If it hadn't been for the buttons on the floor when she woke up she would've wondered if last night had even happened. _Business as usual,_ she thought to herself as she stared out at the dance floor.

"Don't even think about it, Delilah," he spoke in a warning tone. "It's not going to happen."

Shaking her head in confusion, she asked, "What isn't going to happen?"

"I saw the way you were staring out at those fools dancing around the room. Unless you're going out there by yourself. There won't be any dancing tonight."

Delilah merely shrugged. It hadn't crossed her mind, but she did feel a tad disappointed. She definitely wouldn't have denied him if he had asked her to dance with him. "So you're not a dancer, huh?"

Joker leaned down to whisper in her ear, his breath tickling her skin as he said, "Well, some may say what we did last night was a sort of dance." He smiled wickedly as Delilah's cheeks turned a shade of pink. There's that awkwardness again, rearing it's big ugly head…

The pink hadn't even begun to leave her cheeks as Frost stepped up to them, as professional looking as ever. "Sir, Marcel is requesting to meet with you. Wants to introduce some of the guys to you."

"Sorry, doll. Duty calls." Joker pushed up from the loveseat, buttoning up his suit jacket as he followed after Frost.

 _And now I'm here at this big party all alone. Awesome,_ she thought. Trying her best to not look as lame as she felt, she crossed her hands on her legs that were crossed in front of her and stared down at the lace of her dress. Suddenly there was a hand in her view.

"Care to dance?"

Her eyes trailed up from the hand up to the same familiar face she thought she had seen earlier. Her eyes brightened as a smile spread across her face. "Donovan?!"

She slid her hand into his and let him pull her to her feet. Despite how happy she was to see him, her face fell as she took in the long scar that spanned the left side of his face from his forehead to the middle of his cheek. "What on earth happened? Are you okay? Where did you go?"

"Easy," he laughed guiding her out to the dance floor. Placing her hand in his, he brought her other to his shoulder before placing his own down on her waist.

Fear crept into her eyes as she scanned the area for any sign of that electric green hair she had become oh so familiar with. J would not be happy if he saw who she was with right now. "So? Are you going to tell me what happened or what?"

"Care to tell me what you're doing here with him?" Donovan asked. She knew he was avoiding having to answer her, but she wasn't letting him off that easy. She would just have to come back to it. "I've heard that you've been staying with him for awhile."

His frustration was evident in his tone, and yet his eyes didn't show any signs of anger toward her. "I, um— had an accident and he helped me get better. There was this doctor and— wait… How did you know I have been staying with him?"

"I have my ways, Delilah," Donovan answered and when she cocked her eyebrow at him he sighed. "I have had some guys I know keeping an eye on you. You know… to make sure you're safe."

"So you're having them spy on me?"

"Not necessarily. Don't be mad," he hurried. "I just needed to make sure nothing happened to you. I knew that the boss had shown some interest in you." Every once in awhile his eyes would dart around the room, keeping watch. "I don't want you to fall into his trap. I just don't want to be too late. He is a psychopath, Delilah. He doesn't care for anyone but himself."

"If he doesn't care then why did he save me? Why keep me around?"

Donovan leaned in closer, his nose nearly touching hers. "Don't make the mistake of confusing caring with intrigue." Seeing something over her shoulder, he placed his hands on her face. "Delilah… come with me. We'll head to Central City. I have a friend there that can help protect you."

She was torn. Donovan had been her friend before he disappeared. If he had asked her the same thing back then, she probably would've went with him, but now everything was different. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Donovan, but no. I'm staying. He hasn't hurt me or…" Her eyes fell on the scar. "Did he— Did he do this to you?"

Donovan stepped back from her, staring sadly down at her hands in his. "He doesn't like it when people want something he believes is his for themselves." Before she could fully process what he had just said, he twirled her into the arms of another man and once again Donovan was gone.

"Well, hey there, beautiful. Enjoying the party?" her new dance partner asked.

"Yeah, it's quite nice," she forced a smile. Making an attempt at polite conversation, she asked, "So who are you supposed to be?"

"Bond. James Bond," he winked at her before twirling her arm, making her dress flow majestically around her. "And you… look like you just fell straight from Heaven."

Joker stood fuming as he watched Delilah dancing with one of Marcel's men, laughing at something he had said. She was _his._ And while the man was keeping his grubby paws to himself, Joker knew what was going through the man's mind. It wasn't hard to tell. Delilah was absolutely gorgeous. The way her smile lit up the room, her eyes shone out from under her mask unintentionally seductive, her smooth skin inviting the touch…

"Marcel," Joker craned his neck towards the man standing just behind him, watching the same scene that Joker was. "Prove you are worthy to remain in my ranks and kill that man that is dancing with my Angel. I want his head on a platter."

"Come on, Mr. J. That's Erik. He's my number two guy," Marcel protested.

"Sacrifices, Marcel. They are the key to success," Joker called back over his shoulder to Marcel as he left to retrieve Delilah.

J didn't say a word about Erik. All he could think about was getting her back to his place. He wanted every bit of her. He _needed_ to have her. She was his and seeing her dancing with that man had _really_ gotten under his skin. He loosened his tie as he watched her leaned down in the middle of his bedroom to loosen the straps of her heels, stepping out of them and proceeding to remove her wings. At first she seemed oblivious to the fact J stalked slowly, _hungrily_ toward her. Raising her gaze, her eyes met his and the first question that ran through her mind was _did he see Donovan with her tonight?._ However, he backed her up against his desk, entangling his hand into her hair as his lips began their assault on hers. She moaned into his mouth, making him groan as he deepened their kiss. Her hands ran up his chest to his shoulders, holding onto him as he bit at her bottom lip.

Taking a chance with bravery, she let one hand fall down to his hardness that remained concealed in his dress pants. Her touch made a growl rise in his chest and he couldn't wait any longer. He wanted her _now._ Flipping her over, he pressed her down against the desk, holding her arm against her lower back. Before he could undo his own pants, something hit his ears. Was she crying? Releasing her arm, he flipped her back around to face him and sure enough, tears streaked down her face and she tried unsuccessfully to hide them. What was even more obvious was the shaking. Tremors took her over as she seemed to be in some sort of panic.

"What the hell is wrong?" he eyed her, taking her chin in his fingers to keep her from looking away.

Delilah took a deep breath, trying to regain even a sliver of her composure. "My ex you were asking about, um—… he used to… even if I didn't—" she choked out, not being able to complete a full sentence, but it didn't matter. J knew what she was going to say and his blood began to boil.

"Don't worry, angel. After tonight, you'll forget all about that son of a bitch." His hands slid up her thighs to grip at her hips. His movements were careful and yet still passionate. If Delilah wasn't so into the moment she would've be absolutely shocked by his sudden switch.

Hell, he was even surprised himself. He was never one to care about such things, but for some reason he wanting to make her forget all about that jerk. He wanted to make sure she enjoyed every minute she had with him. Sure he had always loved how he could make her shiver with a simple dark glare, but making her shiver out of pleasure was so, so much more entertaining. They spent most of the night having sex and he flopped back onto the bed. He put so much effort into making sure the asshat that had treated her so badly before was free from her mind — completely replaced by the Clown Prince himself — and it was exhausting.

She laid at his side so peacefully in sleep and an idea popped into his head. _Lightbulb._ A wicked smile crossed his face as he rose from the bed. Snatching his pants and jacket, he got dressed and pulled out his phone. He was going to have quite the surprise for her tomorrow.

 **Hey, guys! Sorry it took so long! This is the busiest time of the year for me work-wise so it's been rough trying to balance everything. Thank you so much and I really hope to see some reviews! ;)**


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